


For the Best

by estellabystarlight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magical stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5545331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estellabystarlight/pseuds/estellabystarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek runs across Stiles in a mall in Reno, NV, of all places.</p>
<p>Written for Sterek Secret Santa 2016 for sparkofstiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Best

‘Hatz What She Said’. What an incredibly idiotic name for a store, even if it was only a holiday pop-up kiosk in a second-rate mall in Reno. Derek almost snorted aloud when he saw it. 

His breath caught, though, when the guy manning the booth turned away from the mother and son he’d been entertaining with some slight of hand, and pulled a T-rex hoodie off his cart and handed it to the mom.

Derek supposed if he’d been paying attention, he would have recognized the nicely rounded butt in those tight black jeans, but he’d been too wrapped up in following a scent that had been both familiar and at the same time, not. He’d felt the need to follow it; sharp and undeniable. Plus, Stiles was wearing a red fox spirit hood that hid his hair and part of his face. 

Derek waited patiently for the mom and son to pay and leave before approaching. 

Stiles turned to him and greeted him with a simple, “Hi, Derek.” Like it hadn’t been more than three years since they’d last seen each other. They took a minute silently sizing each other up. Derek didn’t suppose he’d changed much. He was even wearing a pair of jeans he’d owned when he’d left Beacon Hills, hence the trip to the mall. 

Stiles, on the other hand, had grown a little taller. His shoulders seemed far broader, his waist more narrow than Derek remembered. His eyes were the same, though, and his lips still permanently looked like he’d just broken away from a bout of passionate necking. 

The main change was his scent. Still Stiles’ scent; notes of ginger and the smell of fresh cracked pecans, but now piqued with a hint of the forest that had not been there previously. Stiles face quirked into a grin. "I wondered why I was here. Guess I got my answer.“ 

“Stiles, I… ” Derek hesitated, not really registering Stiles remark. There was a lot he wanted, no, needed to say, but wasn’t sure where to start. He’d left Beacon Hills for a lot of reasons, but Stiles wasn’t one of them. Well, other than he sometimes doubted his ability to hold on to his self control around an underage teen. His brain helpfully supplied the thought “not underage anymore” as he struggled to find the right words. 

A young couple walked up to the kiosk. “Be right with you, folks” Stiles said before turning back to Derek. “The place closes at nine. Can you meet me at the Fireside off West 2nd and we’ll get a drink?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Don’t run off on me, okay?” Stiles said it jokingly, but there was an undercurrent of worry. 

“I won’t.” Stiles turned back to the couple and Derek wandered off a ways, watching as Stiles chatted with them about mundane things. 

He tried to interest them in a few items, but they weren’t biting. Derek overheard him say, “I have just what you need.” He rummaged under the table and pulled out two identical rompers that looked like mice. 

Derek heard the woman gasp and the man started laughing. “How did you know? We haven’t told anyone! We’re waiting until the 2nd trimester to tell people about the babies!” 

Derek was wondering the same thing. The woman, although apparently carrying twins, showed absolutely no visible signs of pregnancy. Not even her body language should have tipped him. 

Stiles shrugged, “Just a knack. I can always tell what people need. Congratulations, by the way!” Derek positioned himself more discreetly and watched Stiles for another hour before leaving. He never had more than one customer at the kiosk at a time, but he always made the sale, coming up with exactly what was needed, whether a set of ten god-awful elf hats with ears attached for a Girl Scout Troop leader prepping for a parade or an obviously expensive panda Spirit Hood for a young professional trying to find the perfect gift to please his earthy girlfriend. 

**** 

Two hours later Derek watched as Stiles carried over another round of beers to their table, after buying the clearly inebriated guy sitting at the bar whatever it was he’d been drinking to reach his current state of intoxication. 

It was a quiet place, reminding him more of some of the local pubs he’d seen in England. There was indeed a fireplace and the mantel was decorated for Christmas, but that was the only sign of the season. 

Derek was pleased that Stiles chose to sit next to him at the table when he returned, rather than opposite him again. He had forgotten how much he’d missed the small intimacies of a friend or lover; the casual closeness. Stiles sipped the amber brew, the color a pale imitation of his eyes. 

The first round had been mainly Derek asking about and getting the news on everyone he’d left back in California. He’d been glad to hear that Stiles was still in college, taking only online courses for this semester. But that ‘catching up’ that acquaintances do after a long time was over if the resolute set to Stiles’ jaw was any indication. 

Stiles took a long drink, then asked “Where’d you go, Derek?” His voice carried a hint of a quaver, conveying the hurt behind the question. 

Derek began and didn’t stop speaking for a good forty five minutes other than to take an occasional swallow of beer to wet his throat. It was the longest he’d talked with anyone in at least seven months. 

He told it all to Stiles; the hunt with Braeden and their inevitable parting. How he’d gone to Cora and traveled with her until she’d met a man and decided that the Great Lakes was a great area for a wolf to settle down. How he’d thought about coming back to Beacon Hills but decided it would be too much of a disruption to everyone’s lives. 

How for the last year he’d criss-crossed the United States, each trip west bringing him a bit closer to Beacon Hills, sometimes staying for as much as four days in one place before moving on, always feeling that itch that told him no, not here. 

Not until he’d drove in to Reno a month and a half ago, probably the last place most people would feel like settling in, and thought “Yeah. I should stay awhile.” 

Stiles was quiet for a moment, then simply stated, "You could have texted or called. Something.“ 

"I didn’t think you’d want that. I mean, we weren’t really pals. We worked together, Stiles, that’s it.” 

Stiles mouth twisted into a wry smile. “That’s what you’re sticking with? You know, I might not have your werewolf ears, but I can still hear a lie. We weren’t there yet, but we were more than co-workers and things were headed a lot farther south than friends.” 

“Which is one of the reasons I left before things happened that we couldn’t take back.” 

“Interesting way of putting that, big guy.” Stiles didn’t sound angry or upset, just anticipatory, like he was waiting for something else. 

Derek asked the question he assumed Stiles was waiting on. "What about you? Why are you in Reno, of all places? Did Deaton send you? I’m guessing he’s training you? You have magic now, I can tell.“ 

Stiles knocked his leg against Derek’s, sending a tingle shooting through him. Physical contact wasn’t something he’d had a lot of in the last few years and any touch from Stiles had always sent his senses into overdrive. "Nice catch, wrong conclusion.” Stiles grinned at him. 

He rolled his hands with a flourish, “Nothing up my sleeve, it’s all natural.” 

“I’m not following.” Now it was Stiles’ turn to talk. 

He’d been in Reno less than two weeks as it happened. When he’d turned 18 he’d come into his inheritance from his mom’s side of the family. She’d always told him her family came from the Fair Folk. When he was younger, Stiles thought she’d meant they were carnies. After she’d died, when he was a little older, he’d thought Fair was a family surname. 

The day after his eighteenth birthday, his dad had handed him a letter from his mom, written before the dementia had really set in. Fair Folk…as in fairies. She wasn’t sure how his talent would manifest, or even if it would since he was the first male in a long line of females. 

Her grandmother had been a midwife that had never lost a mother or child despite the conditions of that era. Her mother had been a baker, a prize-winning one; her cakes never fell and her pastries were works of art. 

As for Claudia, she could fix anything, literally any piece of equipment, just by studying the broken piece for awhile. His dad swore he’d never paid for computer or car repair when she’d been alive and she was always helping out the neighbors when appliances broke down. 

The sheriff said one night when Claudia was eight months pregnant he’d come home to find her reassembling Mr. Jenkins vintage Indian motorcycle in the garage. 

Derek listened to Stiles, thinking he could hear him talk forever, except that would make kissing him breathless impossible. He also realized that at some point he’d rested his hand on Stiles leg and was gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over his thigh. He hadn’t noticed and Stiles hadn’t stopped him. Stiles was finishing, “…which brings it to me.” 

“So, you’re sort of a fairy?” 

Stiles shuddered. “Dude, no. I’m sort of descended from fairies, but way, way down the line.” 

“But you have magic. I watched you at the mall with your customers…” 

“Creeper.” Stiles interrupted good-naturedly. 

“…and I could tell something was up but I couldn’t figure it out.” 

“I know what you need.” 

Derek stared at him. “Okay. What do I need?” 

“Oh, lots and lots of things and I’m definitely going to help you with that, Derek, but that’s not what I mean. I know what you need…that’s my talent. I can tell what people need, or at least what’s going to be the best for them.” 

“Like a fairy godmother, Stiles?” Derek gave him an incredulous look. 

“No, Derek, not a fairy godmother. I don’t grant wishes. Look, the guy over at the bar…the one I bought the drink for? I knew he needed to stay put for a while longer, so I bought him a round.” 

Derek had noticed how drunk the guy was and had been relieved when a friend of his had shown up shortly after Stiles had spoken to him, taken his keys and helped him out the door to a cab. 

“So you can tell what people need and you, what, steer them in the right direction?” Derek asked. 

Stiles nodded. “Now you’re getting it. Which is why I’m going to be the best damned guidance counselor in the history of Beacon Hills High. It’s like the couple at the mall. I just knew that they were going to have twins and that those mouse outfits would make them happy and give them something for a cute Christmas reveal. It’s like an instinct.” 

“And you’re instinct sent you here to Reno to help me? Is that it? Stiles watched Derek closely, as if trying to figure something out, then he leaned over and kissed him. 

It wasn’t a fiery, passionate kiss, but it had the bones of becoming one. Derek felt a part of himself start to come unwound, something held tightly in check for a lot longer than he cared to admit even to himself. 

It wasn’t just being able to act on something forbidden he’d wanted for too long, even though the heat curling in his abdomen was wonderful. It was the settling in, the relaxing of his defenses, the freedom of feeling safe, being home, of pack. 

He could smell the change in Stiles pheromones, could sense how happy and turned on he was to be kissing Derek, and knew down to his core that this was something they were going to get to have. This wasn’t something that would be dangled in front of them and snatched away from them like a petulant child grabbing a toy. This was theirs to have and own. Finally. 

Stiles broke the kiss and brought his hand up Derek’s face and caressed his jaw line. "I think it was taking care of me. It brought me here because we’re best for each other. I need you, you need me. And trust me on this Derek, we’re going to be awesome.” 

Derek knew he was right. A calm had crept up on him from the moment he first recognized Stiles. The lightening of his soul in the last few hours and the contentment of his wolf confirmed it. “I do trust you, Stiles. I think I have for a very long time.” 

Stiles grinned, “I have a by-the-week hotel room with a Murphy bed. Let’s go get me kicked out on a noise complaint.” 

Derek stood and tugged Stiles to his feet. “Absolutely. That would definitely be for the best.”


End file.
